Band Gnomes
by VioletRose13
Summary: [Based on an episode of SpongeBob SquarePants] When Sherlock Gnomes lies to his brother Mycroft about having a band of his own, he and Dr. Watson have to call in Gnomeo, Juliet, and all of their friends for help.
1. The Lie

Whenever he wasn't solving a mystery or fighting his arch enemy, Sherlock Gnomes would spend most of his days practicing either his fighting skills or his violin. Today, he had his violin in hand and was playing a new composition he had just learned. Sherlock had always been an accomplished musician, but he wasn't trying as hard as he would on other days. Suddenly, his train of thought was interrupted by the outside telephone ringing.

"Don't worry, I'll get it." Dr. Watson offered, taking the first opportunity to get as far away from the shrill notes and whiny chords as possible.

"Yes, you do that, Watson. Thank you." Sherlock said, turning his attention back to the instrument in his hand. "That blasted device nearly made me lose my concentration."

Watson smirked and rolled his eyes before hopping up onto the porch table and answering the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello. Is a Sherlock Gnomes there?" A male voice on the other end asked.

"Oh, yes. But I'm afraid he's rather busy at the moment." Watson replied.

"I'm sure whatever he's doing can wait. I'd like to speak with him now, if you please."

"If you insist." Watson turned his head to his friend. "Sherlock, it's for you."

Sherlock sighed and ran over to his friend, still holding his violin. "Coming, coming. This had better be important." He set the violin down and went over to the telephone. "Hello, this is Sherlock Gnomes. To whom am I speaking and how may I help?"

"Sounds as though you have a dying animal to attend to, eh little brother?" The voice said tauntingly.

Sherlock suddenly froze; he knew this voice all too well. He nearly gasped. "Mycroft?!"

Watson froze as well. He knew Sherlock had an older brother, but he had never actually met Mycroft Gnomes.

"Yes, it's me." Mycroft replied. "I hear you've been rescuing ornaments all over the city. Would you say that's true?"

Sherlock furrowed his brow. "Yes. They don't call me 'the world's first consulting detective and sworn protector of London's garden gnomes' for nothing, you know."

"Oh, there you go again. You were always the vain one."

"Oh, me? _I'm_ the vain one?"

"Obviously. You boast to no end."

"Ugh. Mycroft, we're getting off track. Why have you called?"

"Oh yes, of course. I just wanted to tell you some important news."

"Which is?"

"I'm not only a member of the British Gnome Government, but I'm also the leader of a grand and marvelous band now and we're supposed to be playing the Royal Doulton Bowl in a few days."

Sherlock's eyes widened in shock. "The R-R-R-Royal D-D-D-D-Doulton—"

"That's right. I'm living _your_ old dream, Shirley old boy. But I have a bit of a problem. My band and I have been quite busy for the past several days and we can't make it to the Doulton Bowl. So I called you hoping that you and _your_ band could cover for us."

"_My_ band? Cover for _you_? Why in the name of all things fragile and porcelain would I do that?"

"Because it's what brothers do… You _do_ have a band, _don't_ you Sherlock?"

"Oh! Well I-I-I, um, I mean, I uh…" Sherlock was at a loss of words, something Watson had never seen before. He had never seen his partner in crime solving look so flustered or scared.

"I knew it!" Mycroft's voice cried out with a wicked laugh. "You don't even have a band! I'll let you get back to finding lost toys and battling ice cream truck mascots now."

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, MYCROFT!" Sherlock yelled into the phone. "It just so happens that I'm not _just_ a detective! I DO have a band and we are going to play that Royal Doulton Bowl! How do you like that, big brother?"

Watson's eye widened; he couldn't believe what had just transpired. Sherlock rarely lied and when he did, he always had a plan. But this? This was just too out of character for the great Sherlock Gnomes.

"Oh really? Well good luck this upcoming Friday. I hope the audience brings lots of earplugs and _ibuprofen_." Mycroft said before hanging up.

Sherlock and Watson stood there in shock, realizing what Sherlock had just said. Watson reluctantly put the phone back to its original place.

"…Why did you say that?!" He cried.

"I DON'T KNOW!" Sherlock screamed in panic. "What am I going to do?! What was I thinking?! I don't have a band! And now when Mycroft finds out that I lied, he'll never let me live it down!"

"Okay, okay! Calm down, calm down!" Watson and Sherlock each took a deep breath and mildly relaxed. "We can handle this. Perhaps if we just explain everything—"

Then Sherlock got an idea. "Wait! Mycroft doesn't have to know that I lied. We can put together a band ourselves."

"But HOW?" Watson asked. "The Doulton Bowl is this Friday, which is in _four_ days!"

"Do you have a better idea?"

Watson opened his mouth to speak before he paused and sighed in defeat. "No, I suppose not. But what are we going to do?"

"We'll need to drum up a band, _fast_." Sherlock paused before giving himself a light facepalm. "Drum, band humor."

"But who are we going to find?"

"Don't worry, Watson. I know _exactly_ who to call." Sherlock smiled.


	2. Day One

The very next night, Sherlock and Watson appeared on the doorstep of Gnomeo and Juliet's garden. The red gnomes and the blue gnomes were all gathered around and the two leaders stood in front of them. They were all talking and each holding a musical instrument, wondering what in the world was going on. Gnomeo and Juliet clapped their hands to get their attention.

"Alright, people! That's enough!" Gnomeo announced.

"Settle down! All of you!" Juliet chimed in as the gnomes all quieted down. "Good, thank you. Now Sherlock has something he'd like to say."

"Thank you, Miss Juliet." Sherlock said as he made his way in front of everyone else; Juliet and Gnomeo took their seats. "Now I just want to thank you all for allowing me and Watson to hold this meeting in your garden. I truly appreciate it."

"You're very welcome." Lady Bluebury said kindly; she sat beside her son.

"What is all of this about, Mr. Gnomes?" Lord Redbrick asked, not sounding too pleased.

"Dad, please." Juliet hissed.

"Don't worry. I shall explain everything." Sherlock replied. "But first, answer me this. How many of you have played a musical instrument before? If so, raise your hand."

About six or seven gnomes of each color raised their hands, including Gnomeo and Juliet themselves.

"Ah yes, very good." Sherlock smiled, nodding his head.

"Oye, I have a question!" A rather buff red gnome said as he stood up; it was Tybalt.

"Yes, Tybalt?"

"Do garden tool count as instruments?"

"No, they don't."

"I have a question, too." A garden deer named Fawn asked, raising his hoof in the air.

"Yes, Fawn?"

"Do instruments of _torture_ count?" Fawn asked.

"…No."

"Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh! I have a question, too!" A little blue gnome with a very tall hat cried out as he jumped up and down.

"Yes, Benny?"

"Is mayonnaise an instrument?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed. "No, Benny. Mayonnaise is _not_ an instrument." Benny raised his hand again. "Horseradish is not an instrument either. And neither is mustard or ketchup or even toothpaste." Benny put his hand back down and remained silent. Sherlock sighed again. "That's fine, not everyone has any experience. Fortunately, _I_ have enough talent for _all_ of you."

Sherlock suddenly burst into laughter at his own joke. After a moment, he looked to see no one else laughing with him. Feeling embarrassed, he cleared his throat and stopped laughing.

"When do we get the free food?" A plastic flamingo named Featherstone asked.

Watson quickly joined his friend. "Alright, if there are no further questions, let us begin." He took out a clarinet as Sherlock took out his violin. "Now, try to repeat after me and Sherlock." He raised the clarinet to his lips and played '_do re mi fa so la ti do_'. Sherlock did the same on his violin.

"Brass section, go." Sherlock commanded.

The gnomes who had brass instruments repeated, but rather badly. The detective winced and turned to the gnomes holding wind instruments.

"Alright, that's good. Now the wind."

Those gnomes did the same thing. Sherlock turned to the gnomes who had drums.

"And the drums."

However, the drummers misunderstood what Sherlock meant and they blew on their sticks which blew out of their mouths and nearly spear Sherlock and Watson.

"…Too bad that didn't kill me." Sherlock muttered sarcastically.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Later that night, Sherlock decided to move on to another part of practice.

"Let's try stepping in time." He said as he held a baton in one hand. "In a band, staying in rhythm is very important. I want everyone to stand in straight rows of four."

"Ooh! Is this the part where we start kicking?" Fawn asked excitedly.

"No, Fawn; this is _not_ a chorus line." Sherlock answered.

"Kicking?! I wanna do some kicking!" Tybalt yelled as he kicked Nanette in the shin.

She gave him a dark glare as she held her leg. "Why you…"

It was then that Nanette started to fight Tybalt and they rolled from their spots over to the gate, which closed behind them. Tybalt screamed. Everyone else paused and stared at the gate door in disbelief. After a long moment of silence, Nanette came back into the garden and headed to her seat, feeling pretty proud of herself for some reason. Then Tybalt reluctantly walked back in; he had a broken bicycle horn stuck on his head.

"Whoever's the owner of the white sedan, you left your lights on." He went back to his seat.

"Um…" Watson stuttered, looking at his friend.

"…Okay, then. Let's move on." Sherlock quickly said, changing the subject.


	3. Day Two

The next evening, just before sunset, the gnomes were all marching down the sidewalk while badly playing Semper Fidelis. Sherlock was leading the way.

"Yes! Yes, that's perfect, everyone!" He instructed, trying to force a smile. "Royal Doulton Bowl, here we come! Come, majorettes, really spin those batons! Okay, turn!"

They slowly made a turn around the block.

"Majorettes, let's go! I want to see some spinning!" Sherlock demanded. "Come on, ladies! Let's move! C'mon, move! Really spin! Spin! SPIN!"

The two majorettes at the front were so into spinning their batons that they didn't even notice an out of control car driving straight towards them.

"EVERYONE, FREEZE!" Sherlock screamed as he and the other gnomes all froze.

Noticing the horde gnomes on the sidewalk, the driver cried out in surprise. He jumped out of the car and it suddenly swerved away from the sidewalk and crashed right into a tree, which causes a small explosion. The driver ran away from the wreckage as fast as he could just as the gnomes unfroze. Two blue gnomes holding trumpets stepped forward, nodded at each other, and they play the song 'Taps'. Sherlock face palmed.

"Let's try this again later, shall we?" Watson suggested.


	4. Day Three

"Well, this is our last night together before the show." Sherlock said as he stood in front of everyone. "And I know some of you have greatly improved since we began while some of you haven't improved at all since the first night… but I have a theory that might help. People speak loudly when they want to act smart, right?"

"Correct!" Tybalt yelled.

"So maybe if we play loud, people might think we're good. Everybody ready?" Sherlock raised a baton over his head and grinned, hoping he was right. Everyone picked up their instruments, ready to start. "And a one, and a two, and a one, two, three, four! Ready, PLAY!"

As soon as Sherlock said 'play', everyone started to play as loud as they possibly can. Unfortunately, they were also playing very badly, even WORSE than ever before. Sherlock and Watson covered their ears at the sound.

"Okay, okay, okay! Everybody, stop! STOP! Before you wake up the entire city!" Sherlock yelled at the top of his lungs.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at their conductor. Sherlock shook his head, no longer in a daze.

"Okay, new theory. Maybe we should play so quietly, no one can hear us." He sighed.

"Well, maybe we wouldn't sound so bad if some people didn't try to play with big, sweaty flippers!" Tybalt taunted.

"What did you say, punk?!" Nanette asked, glaring daggers at Tybalt.

"Big, sweaty flippers!"

"Well, these flippers ain't for just swimmin'!"

"Bring it on, amphibian! Bring it on!"

"No, people. Calm down!" Gnomeo said as he and Juliet tried to intervene. "Let's be smart and bring it off, shall we?"

"Oh, so now the head trumpeter is going to preach to us." Fawn scoffed.

"They are only trying to help!" Featherstone argued.

"Wait, wait! Everyone, calm down! Please!" Sherlock cried, trying not to sound worried. "I know tensions are high, but—"

Suddenly, all of the gnomes started fighting with one another. Not just the blue gnomes against the red gnomes, but they were going up against each other as well. Sherlock and Watson watched in horror, unsure of what to do to break it up. They tried jumping onto tables, pots, and fences and shouting at them to get them to stop, but it was all in vain. They were so caught up in the chaos that they didn't even notice. It caused quite a ruckus in the neighborhood; it even woke Mr. Capulet and Mrs. Montague. Their bedroom lights suddenly turned on.

"Will you clam up?!" A neighbor shouted as he threw a boot into the purple garden.

The gnomes suddenly stopped fighting and froze.

"What is going on out there?!" Mr. Capulet shouted.

"What in the world?" Mrs. Montague asked.

After a moment of waiting in silence, the lights in each house turned off and the humans reluctantly went back to bed. Just as the red gnomes and blue gnomes were about to head off to bed themselves, thinking that class was over, Sherlock suddenly stopped them at the gate.

"Well… you did it." He said solemnly. "You took my one chance in happiness… and crushed it into tiny little pieces. No, _worse_ than that. You crushed it into _dust_!" He sighed in defeat and covered his eyes with one hand. "You know, I really had expected better from you people. I suppose I'm a loser for that, too." He gave them all a hurt look. "Don't bother showing up tomorrow. I'll just tell them that the pressure got to all of you and you decided to quit at the last minute. So, thanks. Thanks for nothing!"

And with that, Sherlock turned on his heels and walked away, hanging his head in defeat.

"…You're welcome." Benny obliviously chimed in.

"I cannot believe you, _any_ of you." Watson said, stepping forward. "What kind of monsters are you?"

"_Us_?" Nanette questioned, sounding offended.

"Yes, YOU." Watson retorted. "That poor gnome came to all of _you_ in his hour of need and you _failed_ him. I thought we were all supposed to be friends and yet you're all behaving like children. No, worse than that; wild animals!"

The gnomes of blue and red all looked at each other with guilty looks on their faces.

"…Watson's right." Gnomeo said as he went up to Watson. "Sherlock has always been there to help."

"Yes. Not just for _us_, but for every other gnome in London too." Juliet added.

"Yes, that's it. When you all were held captive by Moriarty and trapped inside Tower Bridge, who found you?" Watson asked.

"Sherlock." Benny and Nanette said in unison.

"And just when you thought you were going to die at the hands of Moriarty, who did you pray would come to help?" Watson questioned.

"Sherlock." Lord Redbrick and Lady Bluebury added.

"Right!" Watson said. "So if we can all just remember all of the times Sherlock has been there for each and every one of us, then I'm sure that we can all pull together and discover what it truly means to be in a marching band."

"Yeah, for the detective!" Fawn cheered; everyone else followed suit.

"If we're going to do this, then I'll need to call in a favor." Juliet said as she ran to the phone on the wall.

The gnomes all picked up their instruments and stood in rows of four. Watson was at the head, Gnomeo and Juliet quickly joined him.

"Irene and her toys are on their way." Juliet said.

"Good. Now let's make Sherlock proud." Watson said, raising a baton in the air. "A one, a two! A one, two, three, four!"


	5. The Show

It was Friday. Sherlock was walking up to the building that was hosting the Royal Doulton Bowl with his head hung low. He sighed.

"I should've known this would happen. They'll just have to find another band to play. I just hope that…" He moped as he approached the entrance, only to see a gnome dressed in dark clothes and a large top hat standing right at the entrance. He froze and screamed at the sight of his brother. "…Mycroft doesn't find out! Mycroft, AGH!"

"Hello, little brother." Mycroft said smugly.

"W-w-w-w-w-what are you doing here?" Sherlock stuttered. "I thought you and your band were busy today."

"Oh, I just wanted to watch you _fail_." Mycroft cruelly replied, pinching his brother's cheek. He looked around, but could see no other gnomes. "So, where's your band?"

"My band? Oh, they couldn't come. They… quit."

"They quit, eh? Then who's that?"

Mycroft pointed a finger behind Sherlock. Sherlock turned around and was shocked to see Gnomeo, Juliet, Watson, Irene, and all of their friends standing there with instruments in their hands.

"That would be my band!" Sherlock exclaimed.

"Nice to see you too, Sherlock." Irene said sarcastically.

"Hey, mate." Gnomeo greeted.

"Don't worry, Sherlock." Watson chimed in.

"We're all ready to perform." Juliet added.

"Well Shirley, this is exactly how I imagined your band would look." Mycroft smugly said, watching Benny does a little dance with a big grin on his face.

"That's his eager face." Lady Bluebury said.

"Let's get going, shall we?" Lord Redbrick suggested.

"Yes, we might as well start the show." Sherlock said as he walked into the building, his hand over his face in embarrassment; the rest of the gnomes followed him, including Mycroft. "I suppose this will be the last time I can _ever_ show my face in this city."

"Don't be like that, Sherlock." Watson said comfortingly.

"Yes, dear. Everything will be fine." Lady Bluebury added.

'Why don't I believe you?' Sherlock thought as he and everyone else took their places on stage; he picked up a conductor's stick.

The lights in the auditorium dimmed and the curtains slowly opened; Sherlock could see enormous crowds of gnomes, toys, and ornaments of all kinds. Now he was even more nervous, realizing that he was going to be humiliated in front of so many people. He turned back to the band and raised his baton.

"Alright, everyone." He said, glancing at Mycroft who was sitting backstage; he and bounces his brows. Sherlock took a deep breath. "Let's get this over with. One, two, three, four…" He shut his eyes, hoping for the worst.

The band then starts to play a wonderful intro with gnomes on brass and percussion. Sherlock opened his eyes, shocked. Gnomeo and Juliet step forward, each with a microphone in their hand. The song 'Don't go Breaking My Heart' by Elton John suddenly starts to play and Gnomeo and Juliet were singing their hearts out.

"_Don't go breaking my heart_"

"_I couldn't if I tried_"

"_Honey if I get restless_"

"_Baby you're not that kind_"

"_Don't go breaking my heart_"

"_You take the weight off me_"

"_Honey when you knock on my door_"

"_I gave you my key_"

Sherlock stared in shock and amazement. He glanced at Watson and Irene who gave him a smile and a wink.

"_Nobody knows it_

"_When I was down_"

"_I was your clown_"

"_Nobody knows it_"

"_Right from the start_"

"_I gave you my heart_"

"_I gave you my heart_"

"_So don't go breaking my heart_"

"_I won't go breaking your heart_"

"_Don't go breaking my heart_"

Mycroft could only gawk in pure shock. Sherlock gave him a smug grin before throwing his baton over his shoulder and using his arms for conducting, almost starting to dance along. As the band played and the gnome couple sang, everyone in the music hall started to dance along, too. At one point, Mycroft fainted and was carried away. Sherlock didn't seem to care; he was so invested in the song that he didn't even notice anything else.

"Don't go breaking my heart!" Gnomeo and Juliet finished.

The crowd cheered and applauded like there was no tomorrow. The entire band stood from their places, grinned, and took a bow before pushing Sherlock to the front. Sherlock was at a loss for words; he looked back at his friends and smiled, nonverbally thanking them for everything they've done. Gnomeo, Juliet, Irene, and Watson soon joined him and they all took a bow together. Now this was, without a doubt, the proudest moment of Sherlock's life.


End file.
